Ein Bier
by Su-Whisterfield
Summary: A beer. A hug. Some introspection. The X-Men have all moved to Krakoa. Jean, Scott and Logan are living on the moon and starting a polyamorous relationship, where does this leave Logan's best friend? Squaring the Circle, Part 1


One more beer to deliver, where is the little fucker?  
Up is my best guess but the place is heaving, Alison's light show is, well, dazzling and the shadows are his friend.

**Jeannie, seen my Elf recently?**  
**He was with Ororo. On a ledge, at your three o'clock, about twenty foot up**  
**Gotcha, thanks, darlin' **  
Anyone would think she was keeping tabs on him for me.

Yep, there's a patch of shadow with eyes that blink. I wave the beer and beckon him down. He shakes his head. Stubborn little shit. The cliff is covered in vines, climbing it is easy but I grumble all the way up, holding the beers in my teeth by their plastic yoke. He's smirking. I repeat, he's a little shit. There's no sign of our Wind Rider.

"This Council crap is goin' to your head."  
"Grovel, mere mutant." He gives me his toothy grin.  
"Do you want this beer, smart mouth?" I dangle the cans over the ledge. "Not sure you're legal anyway."

Chuck has some weird idea about 'optimum ages' going on; he's decided Kurt's body is at maximum efficiency at about 19 years, so he's currently sporting the bright, shiny new body of a teenager, although he was a grown adult last time I looked. He looks all of 15, all long legs and arms, sharp, pointy face, like a horny faun. If his hormones are following his biological age, Chuck may find himself knee deep in pretty blue babies in nine months. Not sure I like it, kinda liked him the way he was before, but it's the least of the weird crap going on at the mo'.

We drink our beer in companionable silence, well, I do, he prattles on about who's who in the throng below. How the hell does he know? How can he tell them all apart? Most of them are a blur to me.

"So," I clear my throat. "Me 'an Jeannie are thinkin'... "  
"I know." Smug voice. Ororo and Jean have been talking to each other, and he's always Ororo's confidant, I swear gossip is the most common superpower around here.

I am absolutely, positively, not asking his permission about this. Absolutely not. None of his fucking business. He's only a friend. Yeah, right, if you believe that, there's a bridge I want to sell you. But I wanted him to know from me. Too late now. I want him to be good with it, it's important to me that he's good with it.

He rests his hand on my wrist. "I know what she means to you, my friend. I've always known." See, this is it, he does know, he knows me as well or better than anyone on this rock. Including myself. And he doesn't make me spell shit out and make a fool of myself.

Eyes like golden moons in the shadows.  
Jean is as bright as the sun, I glance down, I can see her on the dais, a pillar of fire which warms me in every way. I want her more than any woman on the planet. We could crash and burn, we might go out in a blaze of glory, whatever, it will be worth it. He follows my glance, his smile is like him, gentle and genuine. If it does all end up in ashes, guess who will be there to pick up the pieces?

I put my hand under his chin and turn his head back towards me. If Jeannie is the sun, he's a mere sliver of blue-silver moonlight, nothing more than a spark next to her. But he's a spark buried so deep in me; I found that out the hard way, on a cold, windy day in San Francisco, when they brought me his body. I'll never forget the pain of him not being there; this is why Krakoa has to work, he's safe here.

Scotty and me discussed worse case scenarios when we were on our way to skrag Orchis' base, we hadn't expected to need most of them, but guess what, when it all went south, we did. We 'd discussed Kurt 'porting me EVA if necessary. Would he be fast enough to get me out there and then back in before the temperature and vacuum got him? He's damn fast. But the question wasn't could he leave me outside to fry alone, it was would he. And we both knew the answer to that.

I'm crap at words. So I resort to hugging him. Again. Beer and hugs, how many years have we been doing this? He deserves so much more

Still the words won't come. I doubt they ever will.

I release him with a sigh and a ruffle of that ridiculous mop of hair.

"Come on, oh Radiant One, let's go get hammered."  
"Oh! Of, all the things to remember..."  
"Hah, never gonna let you forget that one, Elf. Never."

Getting down from the ledge is much easier when you have a teleporter on your side.


End file.
